


This moment

by mslilylashes



Series: Mind Palace vignettes [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Pre-Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-25 23:44:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20920613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mslilylashes/pseuds/mslilylashes
Summary: John is trying to commit the night before to memory. Sherlock is trying to steel himself for the day to come.The night before the Fall. The moment before it all fell apart.





	This moment

_I want to stay here in this moment_  
_Can I quietly slip into you_  
_You and I can stay here in this moment_  
_Let the world fade away_  
_I just want to stay with you_  
-Melissa Etheridge

_This is the moment when all I’ve done_  
_All of my dreaming, scheming, and screaming become one_  
_This is the day — just see it shine_  
_When all I’ve lived for becomes mine_  
-Dr Jekyll/Mr Hyde

They are two sides of the same coin, Sherlock Holmes and Jim Moriarty. Both too bright, too brilliant, too beautiful for this drab, grey, mundane world. They are two stars shooting off into oblivion, leaving only darkness and stardust in their wake. The only difference is that one is on the side of the angels, and one is the devil himself.

John Watson knows this, understands this, and that the thing about stars is that when one dies — ceases to exist — it leaves a vacuum in its wake that consumes and destroys everything in its path.

Sherlock knows that the end is coming — John can tell by the way he gazes forlornly into the darkness when he thinks John isn’t watching, or the way his mouth firms every time he glares at his phone. John might not be the world’s only consulting detective, but he’s loved one long enough to know when something is amiss.

That night, Sherlock pulls him into bed, frantic, and needy, with just the faintest taste of danger, as if he is trailing fire from his fingertips. _Stardust_, John thinks idly, as Sherlock leaves kisses like breadcrumbs down his chest, hoping they will be enough to lead him back home.

When he nudges John’s thighs apart, and gently breaches his body, and stares into Johns eyes like he is memorising a crime scene, understanding crashes into John, abrupt, and white hot: This is it. _Sherlock is saying goodbye_. 

Their love that night is slow, and terrifying, and mournful, and beautiful. They lay curled against each other in the early morning light. John is trying to commit the night before to memory. Sherlock is trying to steel himself for the day to come.

Several hours later, John’s mobile rings. It’s Sherlock.

‘_Keep your eyes fixed on me. Can you do that for me_?’

John Watson would do anything for Sherlock. Even say goodbye.


End file.
